


Momentum

by HeavenOnFire



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: 5+1 Things, I Ship It, M/M, Sibling Incest, pre kotfe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenOnFire/pseuds/HeavenOnFire
Summary: In the darkness, memory is his only friend.





	Momentum

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first fic in the swtor fandom.  
> As a huge star wars fan, I've been playing the game since launch. But then I stopped for a long time and now I got pulled back by the space twins. TBH, I wasn't very impressed by KotFE, but KotET is really awesome.  
> This story is mostly set before the expansion. I first wrote it just shortly after the Trailer release, but now reworked if after playing the game. But to read it, you only need to watch the "Sacrifice" trailer. :-)  
> Fanart inside. :-)

Momentum

 

Against the infinitude of the blackest sky, Prince Arcann sits in the corner like a lifeless corpse. He feels no blood running through him, understands not the comfort of his mother’s words, nor the mercy that he did not deserve. He was like the cold outside the cockpit window. It was dead, silent and never ending.

Once, he believed himself the chosen one, raised to become a supernova that swallows starsystems whole. He was born to wage war against all that dare stand against him. Conquest was his only purpose, battle his only freedom. He was a hero once, a legend made flesh to represent the legacy of their Eternal Empire. He was its greatest warrior and he was its ruler. He was the very symbol of what man could achieve, if he is willing to sacrifice.

Yet, when day gives way to the dark that was not only in his heart, when the hour comes he lies down to rest, Arcann sheds his mask and looks at himself in the mirror and sees what he hides away from others in day’s revealing light. He caresses the image of a man who is not himself and accepts in secret that memory of the past is his only friend.

In the pandemonium of his own mind, Arcann understands that he has no real meaning. His personal growth has already ended and his life is nothing but a lie. In truth, he is a monster, a beast made to devour. He is neither human nor animal, only a hollow shell to channel his father’s cruelty and his sister’s madness.

Once upon a time when he was whole, both in body and spirit, Arcann was a son and a brother. He laughed and rejoiced. He was capable of caring and sometimes, even crying. Back then, he had dreams and hopes. Back then, he was so much more.

But destiny had betrayed him. Fate was only a trick to distract him from the inevitable. Promises made to him long ago were broken, leaving behind nothing but the invulnerable husk of the man he once was.

The meaning of self is dwindling. He sinks deeper into the shadow and realizes that he is nothing. Everything he has achieved is a lie to justify the atrocity by his own hand. Void of any dreams, Arcann has unleashed his rage upon the entire galaxy, to what end, he never knew.

 _Who am I?_ He asks the empty stars.

One pale blue eye stares back at him, almost as if it wasn’t his own.

_Thexan._

He fears the day even this name would mean nothing to him.

  


Arcann couldn’t recall the place or time it started. He didn’t know how or why or even what it was, only that when it happened, he was already waiting for it.

He was young, curious and unbalanced in a way he could no longer recall. Back then, he did not consider himself a prince. He was just a simple boy, born to surpass existing limits and rise beyond those who came before him. He remembered his life as a blur of hardship and disappointment. Not in the world, only in himself. Back then, he didn’t understand what his father expected of him and had no means to please the man who meant everything to him. All he wanted was to be recognized and loved.

It was a simple thought, a naive one.

In those nights, the fear of failure hunted him. He woke from those dreams of a dreadful future in which he was unwanted and discarded. His limbs were shaking, his skin wet from sweat. He felt his heart thundering against his chest, causing a pain that was too strong to ignore. He clenched the front of his robe and sought comfort in the sun that was the Zakuul reactor.

Looking back at him was a face masked with shock. Pale and frozen, Arcann closed his eyes against it. In those moment, Thexan’s steady breaths beside him was his only anchor. He knew that his brother would wake momentarily. They shared a connection incomprehensible to anyone but them. They were tied by fate to be brothers and joined in the force that flowed so strong between them. Having spent his entire life with Thexan, Arcann sometimes forgot that they were two.

He watched Thexan slowly open his eyes and focus on him. He felt the intensity of his brother’s stare and the gentle nudge in their bond. It calmed him from the terror his nightmare had left in his bones. He could no longer remember the exact events in his dream, only that he wished not to revisit that realm ever again.

Thexan yawned and shifted out from under his own covers to join Arcann. The older of them places a hand on Arcann’s still shivering arm and squeezed just enough to emphasize the reality of this moment. No words needed to be spoken to transcend Arcann’s fears. No question was asked about the cause of it. Thexan simply pulled Arcann into his arms and pressed a gentle kiss onto his shaven head.

It was still strange to feel Thexan’s lips on his skull. He was so used to their hair that the lack of it left him oddly vulnerable. The warmth and tenderness of Thexan’s lips sent shivers over Arcann’s entire body. He pushed his face into Thexan’s neck and allowed himself to let out a trembling sigh. He closed his tired eyes and bathed in Thexan’s presence.

In the force, they were one.

Arcann remembered asking his tutor once what love meant. The older man tasked to educate the emperor’s sons only smiled down at the young boy and replied something Arcann didn’t really comprehend. Into his head it translated to “Love is caring and understanding. Being in love means becoming one with another person.”

That night was the first time Arcann thought of that world while resting in Thexan’s arms. He wondered if his brother loved him just as much. He wanted to know when he had fallen in love with his brother and couldn’t answer this absurd question. _How do people fall in love? How does it start? How would they know?_ Arcann couldn’t tell. Perhaps he always loved Thexan because Thexan was always there. But perhaps, he fell in love with Thexan in this very moment.

He tilted his head to face his silent protector. What would he do without Thexan? Arcann banished the thought almost as it came. He would never be without Thexan he believed. They would be brothers for life and they would live their lives together. They would grow up together, train together and conquer together. And when the day came, Arcann believed that they would die together.

He watched his brother sleep, breathing quietly down his face. His eyes traced over Thexan’s features, taking in all the small variations from himself. Now that he took the time to consider, he found his brother very good-looking. Much more so than Arcann perceived in himself. To his eyes, they looked nothing alike. All the knights that kept being fooled by their pranks of changing clothes must either be blind or never really looked at them. His gaze fell upon the bruises Thexan had earned in the day’s practice and landed finally on his brother’s slightly parted lips. His gaze lingered there for a very long time.

He wanted to touch them and kiss them. He wanted to bring themselves closer than they were so he could really become one with the person who was the most important to him in existence. Was Thexan ever as curious as he was or would Thexan object? He found no argument against it in the debate only going on in his head. Thinking about stealing this precious moment made Arcann lick his own lips. Finally, he would do something he brother couldn’t.

Getting ahead of his brother for once excited Arcann and his heart began to throb anew. He lifted himself carefully to his elbow and gazed down at the sleeping boy. The thought of waking his brother to share this moment never crossed his mind. This was his victory and he would take it.

Thexan’s lips were just as soft as his. They were dry and warm. For a moment, Arcann was disappointed because they tasted like nothing. But then, realization of what he was doing reached him, bringing him to smile against his brother’s lips.

“What are you doing?”

Arcann jumped back as Thexan murmured into their kiss. Guilt flushed Arcann’s system as a sudden heat darkened his face. He looked down at his own hands, avoiding his brother’s intense stare.

“Nothing,” he replied eventually, “just testing a theory.”

“And? Is the result to your liking?” Thexan asked with such calm confidence as if he already knew the answer.

“Yes and no.” Arcann wanted to describe the feeling to his brother but found no words for it. He shrugged. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I’m mindful of my surroundings. You should be, too.”

It sounded like an accusation to Arcann. The anger he had so much trouble to control bubbled under the surface. “Sorry,” he hissed and layed back down, turning away.

Thexan stopped him. “Why? You could have woken me if you want to try kissing.”

Arcann lifted a bow at his brother. It actually sounded like a good idea. “You are awake now.”

“Alright,” Thexan nodded with enthusiasm. He shifted into a kneeling position and gestured at the spot in front of him. His eyes were so blue, glistening with the light of predawn Zakuul.

Arcann obeyed without much thinking. He brought himself to face his brother and gingerly  reached out. The saw Thexan close his eyes before meeting him in the middle. They lingered in that position, pressing their lips to each other’s and waiting for what would happen next.

Thexan moaned a while later and Arcann shivered. he felt the force flow between them, back and forth and swirling into a pool until any definition of individuality vanished. He reached out deeper into it, not only sensing his brother, but feeling himself as he had never done before. He could no longer say if the excitement belonged to him or Thexan. In that moment, Arcann knew that he had been waiting for this moment without knowing it.

They kissed with the innocence of children until their curiosity were satisfied. Then, Thexan simply shrugged and gave him a brisk smile. he said it felt nice and pressed a shorter kiss onto Arcann’s lips. They both returned to their rest and Arcann slept until morning without the nightmares returning.

When they woke, they didn’t speak about it. But they repeated it every night until kissing wasn’t enough anymore.

  


They never intended to hide what they shared. Not out of fear or rejection. They did not talk about it in front of others, nor did they allow any knowledge of it to escape their presence. They kept to themselves because those moments belonged only to themselves. By revealing it, they felt as if sharing a part of their purest hearts with an outsider.

As Princes of Zakuul, every aspect of their lives was carefully recorded and analyzed. They had no privacy and they had no sense of shame. Their bodies were weapons that needed attentive maintenance. They develop under the watchful eyes of a father that considered them little more than vast investments.

Arcann understood it, yet found it so hard to accept. He felt the anger boiling hotter with each day  and the old, painful instability of his childhood return. It was as if a fire had been ignited inside him, consuming him while he desperately searched for a way to unleash it. But he found none. He fought and fought, but the urge inside could not be stilled.

He punched his fist against the wall of their chamber, watching it crack with his force-enhanced strength. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Out!” he barked at the Knights in the room, doing things he couldn’t care less about. He watched them bow and leave, closing the door behind them. It still wasn't enough. He wanted to tear this whole place down and finally breath in clean air like when he was little and played with Thexan in the field. He growled, allowing something primal to escape his throat. He just needed a way to calm down, or to vent.

He sensed Thexan’s presence shortly before his brother’s hand landed on his shoulder. the force was ever so strong between them. The moment they were physically connected, Arcann felt something rush into him, charged with anticipation so vibrant he had trouble believing it came from Thexan. What did his brother expect from him with a nudge like this?

“What do you want?” he snapped, shaking off Thexan’s hand on his shoulder. He punched the console to open the fresher door and breathed out when he thought himself alone. He needed a shower and a new set of clothes. His white robes were stained with sweat, blood and the sand of the arena. Sometimes, he envied Thexan for his darker colors, hiding his vulnerability from the unforgiving eyes of a thousand onlooking knights.

Sunken into his own brooding, Arcann realized too late that his brother had followed him into the fresher. He was being pressed against the counter before he could tell his brother to leave in the rudest way. A flash of something hot shot through him as he caught Thexan’s eyes, dark with fury and… lust? Thexan’s lips met his a moment later, both soft and demanding.

Arcann’s mind screamed caution at first, afraid some knight might have come back to check on them. Never before had Thexan taken their intimacy outside of the confinements of the bedroom. That he was so careless infuriated Arcann, but there was nothing he could do for he could never deny his brother. He soon lost himself in Thexan’s kiss. Nothing in the galaxy felt as good as Thexan’s kiss and Arcann was sure he would never want anything else more than he wanted Thexan.

They had long stopped at kissing. Now, their hands wandered over each other’s adolescent bodies, exploring and expressing the urgent need to be closer to each other. That what they shared was no common relationship. It was not courtship as the rest of Zakuul would describe it. Nothing of what they had was false, nothing of it unhonest. They didn’t need empty promises of eternal love or shallow encouragements to share their thoughts. Arcann and Thexan were one and as one they moved.

Yet, regardless of the love Thexan felt for him, Arcann felt unfulfilled, undesired. He hated himself for wanting more from a brother who already gave him everything. He feared to ask, uncertain if Thexan could provide him with the answer he sought.

“What bothers you?” Thexan whispered softly into his neck, his lips caressing the sensitive skin there.

“What do you think?” Arcann moaned back.

“Tell me.”

“You already know.”

“Say it,” his brother urged. “Saying it will allow you to accept it. Acceptance is the first step to solving the problem.”

“Don’t lecture me!” Arcann pushed his brother off harshly. He ripped the leather poudren from his shoulder and tossed it into a corner. His service droid would collect them once they were both finished. He undressed himself with a ferocity he normally only showed in combat and snapped at Thexan. “Get out! I want to wash.”

“Arcann,” Thexan remained, “let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help!”

“I believe otherwise.” Thexan had never listened to him. His brother started undressing himself in a much more civil manner and stepped into the stream of cold water. He bristled and laughed. “Come here.”

Arcann only joined him reluctantly. He welcomed the cold water on his skin, washing away the day’s burden. He watched Thexan tilting his head into the stream, allowing water to bounce off his features. Not knowing what took him, Arcann pushed his brother against the wall and bit into his throat. He felt so good doing it he completely forgot what had made him do it.

Thexan groaned and hit him on the shaven skull. But he did bent his head back further, allowing Arcann a closer connection. His arms came up to wrap around Arcann’s torso, his lower body pressed up against him. The desire and heat shot up his spine, blinding him to everything else. In this moment, Arcann felt only lust and nothing more. He followed Thexan’s lead and shifted with his brother, gasping into Thexan’s throat.

Arousal wasn't new to him anymore. He had long entered adolescence and learned everything about the reactions of his body and what it meant. After all, they were properly educated, even if only theoretically. Physical execution of intercourse had not yet crossed his mind, until now. For a brief moment, he wondered if this was what he had missed. Was Thexan truly this sensitive to his feelings that he had somehow figured it out what he wanted before Arcann did it himself? Was Thexan really going to do this?

“Yes.” Thexan demanded, again providing the answer to a question Arcann had yet to asked. At the same time, it was the permission to prolong this trail of thoughts. Knowing what pleasure awaited him at the end, Arcann couldn’t deny the temptation of sharing it with Thexan. His arousal throbbed painfully at the throght, reminding him of the opportunity that had just arrived.

“Yes,” Arcann heard himself growl. He looked down at his brother’s naked form and found it more appealing that any other time they had seen each other. Thexan was built just like himself, strong and young. His member was slightly larger than Arcann’s, but only if examined closely. Arcann took it into his hand and began the motions he had learned for himself.

Thexan moaned and gasped, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to Arcann’s. With every little sound of pleasure coming from Thexan’s lips, Arcann’s own member jerked. When Thexan’s hand found him, it send sparks behind his eyes and took his breath away. The water splashing down on them drowned out their heavy breaths and became warm before it reached the floor. They met each other in the force, again merging into that maelstrom of emotions.

In the force, they became one.

When they came into each other’s hands, they shared no words and asked no questions. They knew what this meant and smiled. They embraced under the water and savored the kiss that lasted on for long minutes. Arcann cherished every second of it as the bliss slowly wore off.

On the inside, he celebrated this day for the bond between them grew even deeper. And if given the time and chance, Arcann planned on exploring the full extent of their bond and vowed to bring it to new heights.

  


Arcann realized that the bliss had to end when he learned what freedom was. It was battle, and it was war. It was in defiance. It was in every victory they won and every life they sacrificed.

Before they shipped out for a conquest that should be their destiny, Arcann only had contact with a handful of chosen knights. He knew his tutors, his combat-masters and his servants. None of them was his friend, and none of their lives had ever bothered him. He had never considered what life was to those common people, including the soldier he was leading into battle. He had never thought about the faces behind those helmets or asked if they had someone to cherish them like he cherished Thexan.

His brother was different. Whenever Arcann decided to stay longer to hone his skills, Thexan would frequent the mess to socialize with their officers. Unlike Arcann, Thexan enjoyed their stories and sometimes even found amusements in their tales. Once or twice, Arcann could be persuaded to join them. He listened to them in silence and came to the conclusion that none of them as worthy to be called a friend. It was only a strategy to gain their loyalty, nothing more.

With his new knowledge came also the stigma that nagged at him day and night. Before meeting his soldiers, Arcann never thought that his bond with Thexan could be wrong. He had never even considered the possibility that their love could be something so few thought acceptable. Looking into Thexan’s face, Arcann understood that his brother was equally shocked. It was the first time Arccan felt something resembling shame for his love.

But shame was not the only problem they faced in the initial phase of their conquest. Naming themselves Commanders of the Eternal Fleet, Arcann and Thexan had become more than just two young men in love. They were no longer boys, sharing the same room in the royal apartments. They were heroes, symboles others looked up to. And symbols could not huddle together like scared little boys.

The nights without Thexan were lonely and quite. He listened to the constant hum of the ship’s reactor core, but could only think of Thexan’s steady breaths that used to be right next to him. Halfway to their first outlander world, Arcann still found himself turning in the night, expecting to find his brother there, but meeting only air. It was as if a part of him was missing, leaving behind a gaping hole that couldn’t be filled by anything but his brother.

Close to panic, Arcann reached out with the force, searching for Thexan’s calming presence. He knew his brother was in the Captain’s quarter down the corridor, but that knowledge did little to ease his mind. The metal walls and empty space between them was his most dreaded enemy right and, but there was nothing he could do.

His night was restless again. He felt as if he was itching all over, his emotions too much for his skin to hold in. Until Thexan’s presence nudged back against his mind, Arcann though he was about to snap. He clung unto that presence in the force and refused to let go. It was only somewhat reassuring to know that Thexan suffered just as he did. Tomorrow, they would have to find a way around this tormenting separation.

Next morning, Arcann met his brother in the hallway just outside his own quarters.

“Come with me!” Thexan’s voice was tight, his grip on Arcann’s arms even tighter. He pulled Arcann into the quarters designated to the ship’s captain and pressed his brother against the wall even before the doors slid shut. Their lips met a second later, both sighing into each other.

“How much time do we have?” Arcann moaned. He couldn’t wait, he couldn’t stop. He was already opening the front of this robes when Thexan nodded back.

“Twenty minutes.” Thexan dragged him towards the bed that was much larger than Arcann’s. He lifted the brims of his black robe and pushed his pants down. Bending over, Thexan reached for the lube he kept under his pillow. “Make it quick.”

Arcann pushed into Thexan with a suppressed grunt. It felt so good to be inside his brother again he almost let tears escape his eyes. He picked up pace as soon as they were both comfortable, bringing them closer to the peak with every move. His hand found Thexan’s and pinned them down to the hard bed. Thexan breathed heavily, but did not moan or scream. His brother only clenched his teeth and gasped into his bedding.

When they first did it, Arcann could feel Thexan’s discomfort in the force. He even felt pain and hurting his brother scared him more than anything else. But now, after years of practice and repeated adjustments, Arcann knew exactly what his brother wanted. Their union was well trained and routinized now.

Like today, it was a fast paced act, born out of urgency. They both knew that time was of the essence and they should take as much as they could in as little time as possible. Arcann didn’t feel bad when he came within minutes, shooting into Thexan while pressing his lips to Thexan’s still clothed shoulder. He heard his brother release a sign and quickly pulled out. Thexan made a gesture, signaling them to exchange position and Arcann followed without protest.

Having Thexan inside him always made him happy. It was a simple kind of happiness that had no known reason. He took pleasure in the rough way Thexan pouding into him and wished they had more time. He wanted to make his brother happy the way Thexan made him happy by simply being there. He could sense Thexan drawing close in the force and closed his eyes to cherish it.

Arcann came again when Thexan spread his seeds inside him. They collapsed into bed, both panting hard at the sudden and intense closure. Thexan didn’t move much, but his lips didn’t stop kissing the little skin he could reach on Arcann’s neck.

“Arc….” Thexan breathed slowly. He pulled out only a moment later and headed towards his private fresher to clean himself. Arcann tried not to feel envious that his brother commandeered quarters that was not only bigger, but also much more befitting their status. After all, father only allowed Thexan to leave Zakuul. That Arcann had defied orders to join his brother was a fact no one in their fleet dared to mention.

When they stepped out of the captain’s quarters after erasing every evidence of their love making, they appeared every bit the intimidatingly perfect generals they were. On the inside, Arcann yearned for more closeness with his brother. They reached out only in the force, promising each other that they would find a solution to this.

On that day, they stole time twice. Once in that afternoon when Arcann was inspecting their stoke. Thexan had pulled him behind some crates to gently caress his face. The other time, Arcann pushed his brother into a dark corridor by the reactor core and kissed the living force out of him.

  


Arcann never enjoyed killing, not the way Vaylin did. He killed simply because he had to. Every Jedi and every Sith fallen under his blade was a necessity. They stood in the way of their conquest and thus must be defeated. Arcann had never killed a man simply because he wanted to kill him. He was a killer, but he was not a murderer. It was a pity for them that Arcann deemed everyone in his path a threat that must be eliminated.

All but one.

She wasn’t any stronger or more important than the rest on her world. She wasn’t in any way unusual, at least not to Arcann’s eyes. Like so many in their ranks, she was a former slave, marked by the scars on her face. That the Sith Empire would give such honors to one so low, Arcann never understood. Nevertheless, he had to admire her for her bold courage, charging into battle in nothing but what looked like an outfit befitting only a cantina dancer.

He would have considered giving her a quicky death like all the other Lords and Darths, Knights and Masters he had killed, had she not laid her filthy fingers on what was his alone.

Arcann saw them on the battlefield, dueling in the red sand of Korriban. Their red and yellow lightsabers danced in the haze, like two lovers in a play. Arcann’s heart took its first sting when he saw his brother abandon an excellent opportunity to split her in half. He realized that Thexan wasn’t the only one pulling his blows when the human Assassin managed to get past Thexan’s defenses and out of some reason, decided not to kill him. That Thexan showed any weakness in his defense was odd enough.

The Assassin shifted her position, dancing behind Thexan with force enhanced speed. She lifted her double-bladed lightsaber high above her head, the crimson light coming down in a lethal strike. Thexan parried her obvious attempt and directed her blade outwards, making her follow. Clenching his other hand around her wrists, Thexan twisted her hand behind the woman’s back. Her lightsaber extinguished in the process, allowing Thexan to hold her close and place his own yellow blade on her throat.

“You insult me with your restraint, Sith!” Thexan spat.

“Guess I’m a little distracted,” the Assassin smirked, her tongue danced out to lick her lips. “Wouldn’t want to cut up that pretty face of yours.”

What Thexan replied Arcann didn’t hear. In the corner of his eye, he just noticed a Sith charging towards him, another crimson saber aimed to take his life. With a snarl, Arcann tore his eyes away from the infuriating scene before him and met the Sith’s blade. In his anger, he discarded his opponent in two vicious strikes, one across his chest, the other decapitating him.

He stepped over the corpse of the Zabrack apprentice no more older than himself and decided to cut his way through to his preoccupied brother. Instead of killing the Assassin which was what Arcann expected to see, his brother was still wasting time in their pointless duel. They again had crossed their blades, their eyes centered only on each other. It was almost playful how his brother tested the woma, attacking and retreating, never aimed to harm, only to prolong their game.

“Thexan!” Arcann called out in anger. It was all it needed for his brother to snap back into reality where a war was still waging all around them. He saw the grin disappear from Thexan’t face as he shifted his eyes back towards the woman.

But the moment was lost. She had disengaged from the battle, retreating towards the bulk of her forces. “Shame, Prince Thexan,” she bowed mockingly, allowing them a stunning view of her already wildly exposed cleavage. “I never had a prince before. Seems you’ll be my first.”

Arcann watched with fury as she made another hand gesture, shrouding herself in the dark side of the force. A moment later, she could no longer be seen among the forces of the sith that had taken advantage of Thexan’s distraction.

“Come back!” His brother shouted stupidly, “we aren’t finished!”

War waged on. The world was a blaze of fire and sand. For hours, Arcann and Thexan battled, both of them fighting harder than before to make up for the upper hand Thexan had lost them with his pointless little dance. When twilight fell over the planet, their forces finally managed to establish a forward command center in one of Korriban’s many ruins.

The moment their debriefing of today's progress ended was the moment Arcann commanded all of them to leave. He marched towards his brother with the same enthusiasm he marched against that human Assassin. His fist found Thexan’s jaw seconds later, fueled with an rage so deep inside his gut he couldn’t even name it.

Thexan didn’t see the punch coming and only prevented his fall by supporting himself against the holo-table. “What by the name of Izax was that for!” He snapped, brows pulled together in pain and anger.

Arcann had never felt this kind of personal rage before. It was illogical and made him blindly attack someone he so loved. But the moment he saw Thexan tumbling, he felt good, just, as if something inside him needed this kind of retribution.

“You jeopardized our mission by toying with her!” Arcann shouted. “That could have cost us the victory. The sith managed a counter offensive because you allowed yourself to be distracted.”

“I’m sorry!” Thexan barked as he gingerly touched his broken lip. He licked at the blood and huffed. “How many times do I have to apologize? You think I don’t know the price of my mistake? Those were my men as well.”

“How dare you?” Arcan punched his fist into the table instead of his brother this time. He was already feeling remorseful for hurting Thexan, but he would not show it. “What has gotten into you? Was she that much of a challenge?”

“No, it’s not-”

“Then, why? Why did you not kill her?”

Thexan blinked at him and then frowned. “You want me to kill her.”

“Of course, she is our enemy!”

“No….” his brother shook his head slowly. Something in his expression changed and Arcann didn’t like it. It usually meant that Thexan was one step ahead of him again.

“What!” Arcann snapped.

“You’re jealous.”

“Nonsense!” But could that be? What the gut-wrenching feeling that kept boiling jealousy?

“Because she called me pretty? Is that it?” Thexan almost laughed. “I’ll remind her the next time that you are usually the handsome one.”

“Don’t be absurd! The next time she crosses our path, you’ll kill her.” Arcann command.

“A little harsh for liking my looks, don’t you think?”

“We have no room for misplaced compassion!” Arcann clenched his fist firmly. He didn’t know what infuriated him more, that Thexan didn’t take the situation seriously, or that he refused to kill her. She was just another Sith, like all the others they had killed. She would fall in time, just like all the others. That she touched Thexan was just more of a reason why Arcann would want to deliver the striking blow himself.

“It’s not because she thinks me handsome, is it?” Thexan’s voice has lost the jocking undertone. “Arcann, look at me.”

“If you like her that much, take her!” Arcann refused to obey his brother. “For all I care, you can keep her as your slave.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe she’ll even make a good mistress to Prince Thexan.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Thexan said, anger slowly seeping into his tone. “Perhaps I will have her. Perhaps she’ll even give me children.”

“Jerk,” Arcann cursed. The console under his hand cracked dangerously as he clenched it too hard. There was a pain in his chest he had difficulty ignoring. It had nothing to do with the injury he sustained during the battle. It was something deeper, something he always feared.

The implication of Thexan’s threat was clear. The day their relationship ended would be today. The moment had come when a woman appeared and bewitched his brother. She took his heart and Arcann would never have any of it again. From this day on, he would be alone while Thexan had someone else.

Vision of Thexan with his future wife flashed through Arcann’s mind. He saw his brother, the firstborn, the stronger and more powerful prince sitting on the Eternal Throne with his Sith Queen by his side, who was as beautiful as she was dangerous. He, and Vaylin would share none of that power, both of them reduced to guards in the shadow of his throne. That Sith deserved all his anger and hate. She was a thief as much as she was an assassin. She stole his brother from his grasp when she should have died by his blade.

His eyes suddenly felt hot. He closed them, preventing the tears from falling. Thexan didn’t deserved his teares. Thexan was abandoning them, him and Vaylin. Thexan was the one to blame for he was the one to end what should have been eternal.

“I’m sorry,” Thexan whispered next to him.

In his deep nightmare vision, Arcann had completely missed that his brother had come to stand right next to him. Thexan’s hand landed on his shoulder, warm and heavy.

“I’m so sorry,” Thexan said more firmly. The hand that was holding Arcann down moved towards his waist to hold him close. Arcann tried to turn his face away from his brother, afraid Thexan would see his tears. But of course Thexan saw them. He didn’t only see them, he felt them in the force and sensed where they come from.

“I’m sorry,” Thexan repeated again.

“Leave me be,” Arcann tried not to let his broken voice show.

“Arcann, don’t be so dramatic.” Thexan learned closer and held him firmly in an embrace. “You know that you alone have my love.”

“I will kill her,” Arcann promised.

“I know. And I won’t stop you.”

“Then she means nothing to you?”

Thexan chuckled into his neck. “Why would she mean anything to me? She is but a Sith. And you are my brother.” His blue eyes met Arcann’s. He closed them and pressed his lips close. Arcann didn’t have the heart to pull away and welcomed the love he thought he almost lost.

“You realized that what we’re doing is somehow wrong?” Arcann asked later, when his chest wasn’t hurting and his gut wasn’t burning anymore.

“And who will judge us? Father? He doesn’t care about what we're doing as long as we keep winning. And he will not care about your reason to kill a Sith.”

“But I’m here against his order.” Arcann reminded him. Sometimes, he wondered if Thexan realized that at all.

“What of it? What is he going to do? Come here personally to drag you back?” Thexan kissed the top of his head like when they were children. “He is on the other side of the galaxy. We’re safe from him.”

“You really believe that?” Arcann frowned, leaning closer. He needed this, needed his brother to tell him that everything would be alright. “One day, he’ll expect us to find mates of our own and sire offsprings, heirs to carry on his legacy. Or you’ll fall in love with a worthy woman. We can’t always be together, Thexan.”

“The day you speak of is far, if it ever comes. He is our immortal Emperor, he’ll live forever. What does he need heirs for?” Thexan sighed. “Arcann, don’t doubt. What we have cannot be wrong.”

“You heard the knights, you know that we’ll be publicly disgraced should anyone learn of what we share.” He swallowed hard, forcing down a new wave of tears. “I cannot….”

Thexan shifted and caught Arcann’s cheeks in his palms. He pressed a forceful kiss on Arcann’s lips and vowed. “I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm us. You, me, Vaylin,” he hesitated, “even mother. Arcann, I swear to you, I’ll never let anyone pull us apart.”

Arcann managed a tight grin and nodded. Placing his forehead against Thexan’s, he muttered, “I believe you.”

  


_A man can have anything, if he is willing to sacrifice._

The words of his father hung heavy on his mind. He had always known that glory had a price and that victory was paid in blood. The world they lived in was unforgiving, just like the eyes of the man he aimed to please. Father expected things of them, things he refused to name but nonetheless demanded. Things, Arcann was just beginning to understand.

_Sacrifice._

He paid for his defiance and his glory. He had paid with screams and blood, with an arm and an eye. He did not regret his choices to engage that human assassin who seduced his brother. He had taken the chance when he saw her on the battlefield. He had unleashed all his fury to make her pay for the pain she had caused. To make her understand what it meant to challenge the Prince of Zakuul.

As Arcann held her in his grasp, his left hand still made of flesh buried deep in her hair, he hissed. “Do you know why I have to kill you, Sith?”

Her eyes showed panic, darting around the battlefield like a caged animal.

“He is mine, Thexan is _mine_.” Arcann whispered. For the first time, he dared to speak it out and it felt good. He watched her expression change, drawing her away from the reality of war to the secret he just shared with her. If she was disgusted, she hid it well.

“You love him,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “It is your weakness. It will doom you both, Prince.”

Anger made him tighten his grip on her once pristine hair, making her wince. “That love makes me strong,” he growled. “Stronger than you’ll never know. You will die, here and now, Sith. No one touches what is mine.”

She tried to nod, “Yes, I will die.” She closed her eyes, accepting defeat. Arcann smirked. But then, she snapped them open to directly confront Arcann’s pale blue ones. “But not by your hand!”

With a powerful push of the force, Arcann was being thrown through the air. He whirled around and managed a landing not ten feet away from her just in time to notice where he had landed. There was a red circle of light on the ground, barely recognizable against the red sand. He had just enough time to leap out of range when the orbital strike hit the earth, crackling it and sending Arcann flying again.

What came next was a haze. He remembered being surprised that he was alive. He remembered wishing for death soon later.

he had no one to blame. Not the harlot who so masterfully orchestrated his defeat, nor the medics who couldn’t save his arm. The pain was his to endure and the sacrifice his to make.

Now everything Arcann wanted was the reward that was promised to him.

He sensed Thexan’s presence before he heard the steps. In the night, his brother’s signature was stronger, filling the captain’s quarters with every pump of his heart. His breath met Arcann’s bare shoulder only a moment later. A gentle kiss was pressed onto his skin, but Arcann didn’t react.

“Forget about him,” Thexan whispered, his lips moving foundly over to his ear. “We’re safe from him.”

A promise Thexan had made when they landed on Korriban. It felt like a lifetime ago, when all Arcann cared about was a woman who might steal his brother away. He was no longer that naive boy who traveled across the galaxy to prove himself a man.

But his brother was still the same. He was still balanced, still centered. Thexan had always been untouchable, but Arcann was not. Thexan had never been severely injured, he had never endured the pain Arcann did. He had sacrificed nothing, neither an arm, nor an eye. He didn't have to. Thexan strode the battlefield as the embodiment of true power. He slew his foes with the same steady heart he carried on Zakuul. Thexan was undefeated, invincible, perfect. A war had not changed that.

Arcann snorted as envy burned suddenly inside him. He shrugged Thexan’s lips from his shoulder and stepped away. He couldn’t even bare to look at his brother, a walking reminder of just how worthy the Prince of Zakuul was.

“Leave me be.” It was all he could managed.

“Come back to bed,” his brother sighed. “We will be at Zakuul soon, we better make good use to this time.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Come,” Thexan’s hand found his. “You need to rest.”

“I’ll meditate.”

“Are you not tired?” Thexan came to stand next to him, both of them looking out towards the light of the hyperspace. But Arcann only saw their reflections, two faces that used to be the same. He felt the itch to scratch as his scarred left side, but resisted the urge.

“I’m tired,” Thexan said after a long silence.

“Then go back to bed.”

Thexan didn’t. He remained at Arcann’s side like he always did. Before his fall, Arcann had appreciated his brother’s persistence. He had once relied on his brother to help him, to save him, until fire took that certainty from him. Now, no one could protect him. His sacrifices were his own. He would face it alone.

He made no attempt to mask his feelings in the force. As much as his brother annoyed him nowadays, he deserved Arcann’s honesty. It was not Thexan’s fault that he was perfect. It was Arcann’s own failure that he once thought they were the same.

“Aren’t you tired?” He eventually asked but didn’t wait for Thexan’s answer. “It was a long comapin. My vision.”

“And we were victorious,” Thexan reminded him. “Zakuul’s might cannot be challenged, we’ve proven that.”

“This war was supposed to be our freedom, I don’t feel free. He is with us, wherever we go.”

“He is the Eternal Emperor. He might have entrusted the command to us, but it is still his army.” Thexan left out a long sigh and released Arcann’s hand. “But this is only the first war in many. We’ve taken some planets, but not all of it. Before long, the Republic and the Sith Empire will retaliate. Then, we will have more victories to win, more freedom to gain.”

Arcann frowned. “I’m not convinced that he wants more war.”

“I don’t care what he wants, only what you want.”

“What about yourself?” Arcann’s gaze darkened. “You followed my vision and joined me on this campaign, but you never told me what your vision looks like. You never wanted war, never liked it. Thexan, what is it you want?”

Thexan’s shoulder relaxed. “I want you, and I want an army of my own. I want my people to follow me not because they were commanded to, but because they are loyal to me. Because they believe in me.” He was moving away from the window, his bare feet making no sound on the floor. “I want the freedom conquest will bring. To be as far away from him as possible, an entirely new galaxy if I can manage. A new world, for just you and me.”

“That’s not possible,” Arcann shook his head. It was the dream of a boy, not a man.

“I know,” Thexan sounded sad and Arcann felt his own heart clench. “This war has taught me much, of me, of you, and the people around us. Most of all, of our father and what he wants. But one day, one of us will rule Zakuul and what he wants will be unimportant. We just have to make it there.”

“One of us,” Arcann didn’t want to think about what that meant. Thexan had never named himself the heir to the throne, even though the entire galaxy thought so. But in the same way, he had never called Arcann the worthy one. He always said ‘one of us’, never ‘both of us’.

“Are you afraid, Thexan?”

His brother turned towards him sharply. His eyes landed on the scared half of Arcann’s face and his expression softened. “Not of death. But there are worse things than death.”

Arcann lowered his head. “I’m not in pain.”

“I know.” Thexan found his way back to him to pull him close. “I don’t fear pain, or injuries, but I fear, Arcann. I fear for you.”

“I can manage myself.”

Something unspeakably sad entered Thexan’s gaze, suddenly reminding Arcann of the last time they saw their mother. “You don’t know what it’s like,” he breathed in and rested his chin on Arcann’s shoulder again. “Until I’m that hurt, you’ll never know that pain.”

Arcann tired to push his brother away, but that only encouraged Thexan to hold him more fiercely. “Stop!” He hissed. “I survived, and endured! It’s done now. I’m fine.”

“Nothing is fine, Arcann! You don’t understand, you never will! You’re always so focused on yourself, you never thought about how I feel.”

“Jerk,” he cursed.

“I felt your pain, brother.” Thexan swallowed, his eyes turning red and his throat tight. “I was there with you. Every minute, every second. If it wasn’t for my failure, you would never have to confront her, and never would been hurt by her. I… you might have endured, but I suffered.”

“Don’t presume.” Anger returned to Arcann’s guts. His metal hand found Thexan’s chest and pushed. His brother, as strong as he might be, was no match for Arcann’s new power. “You do not know what I had to endure. You are still whole, still perfect. This is my sacrifice, mine alone. _You_ will never know.”

Thexan’s anger broke free from his usually balanced self, a wave of heat that left Arcann unsettled. “It’s not your arm that I care about,” Thexan said darkly, “for all I see, you’ve gotten stronger from it.”

“You would make light of what I’ve given?” he hissed, “By Izax, what is wrong with you today? Are you jealous of my new power?”

Thexan’s fist met with the closest surface next to him, making the durasteel table crack. When he removed it, the print was deep in the metal and blood covered his knuckles.

“Don’t you get it? I almost lost you!” Thexan shouted. “I told you not to break ranks, but you just had to run after her. You followed your anger and jealousy, instead of following my orders. You idiot made me think I lost you!”

“So, it’s my fault?” Arcann’s metal hand clenched so tightly, he could hear the gears grinding. “Forgive me for making your highness uncomfortable, Prince Asshole.”

“What?” Thexan’s eyes snapped up from studying his bloody hand, the rage in his heart mirrored on his face. He snarled slightly, glowering at Arcann. “I will forgive you, of course. Anything, if you promise never to do that again. Please Arcann, never make me watch you suffer again.”

“So what if I don’t?” Arcann countered. He wanted to make that promise in a heartbeat, but he couldn’t. They were equals, he could not just bow down to his elder brother. “You know that's a promise I can’t make. Perhaps when the time comes and I’ve made the ultimate sacrifice, father will recognize me as the worthy heir to his throne.”

“Damn you, Arcann,” Thexan barked, now angry tears filling his eyes. “I don’t care about father, I don’t care about the dammed throne! I only care about you. I love you.” He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand, leaving blood on his face. “I can’t be without you. You mean everything to me.”

“Don’t be weak, Thexan.” Arcann’s words were trembling. He wasn’t unaffected by his brother's outburst, but he couldn’t let his  brother continue. If anyone heard them, they would be doomed.

“Love is not a weakness,” Thexan insisted. “And if he deems me unworthy simple because I hold love in higher regards than blind obedience, them I don’t want to be his s-”

Arcann had crossed the space between them in two long strides. He pushed his hand over his brother’s mouth, silencing him. “Shut up,” he hissed with urgent panic in his voice. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again. You are Prince Thexan of Zakuul, first son to the immortal Emperor. You must never say it again, Thexan. You are the heir to the throne!”

Thexan pulled his hand away, his blue eyes burning with intensity. “I don’t want the throne,” Thexan hissed. “Not for the price he is offering.”

“What? What do you mean?” Arcann stepped back, too stunned by what his brother had hidden in his heart. After a moment, he realized, “you are not willing to sacrifice.” It wasn’t a question.

Thexan slowly shook his head. “Not everything.”

He didn’t know why, but he felt dizzy. He sank down to the floor, seeing only blinding lights where the ground should be. That his brother would betray him so, would want something other than he did was too much to bear. What was he to do if Thexan decided to abandon their path. What if Thexan changed his mind and followed mother instead? What would become of him?

“I’m not leaving you,” Thexan reassured him, his hand resting again on Arcann’s shoulder. “I will never leave you.”

“You cannot leave,” Arcann heard himself say. “I can’t be without you. Thexan, please. We are chosen by fate to be brothers. Destiny made us two and two we shall be when we rule.”

Thexan remained silent.

“It’s what father wants.” Arcann insisted. “It’s what we are meant to be!”

His brother shook his head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You are not going to lose me,” Arcann said, taking his brother’s hand into his. “I am stronger now, I know I will not fall in our next battle. I will endure.”

“It’s not what I meant,” Thexan sighed slowly. “It’s father. If he has his way, I’ll lose you.”

“He won’t hurt me. I’m his son.” Arcann wanted to believe that. “He will recognize us when we return. When he sees what we’ve achieved, he will give us what we deserve.”

Thexan closed his eyes and Arcann saw tears escaping. He took Arcann’s head into his arms and kissed his shaven head. For long minutes, none of them spoke. The entire time, Arcann could feel his brother’s tears on his skin.

“Let’s go to bed,” Arcann suggested, pulling his brother up with him. Thexan looked like a man broken. His eyes were red, his face damp. The strength and confidence everyone associated with Thexan was absent, leaving the real man no one but Arcann had ever seen. He took his brother’s face into his hand and kissed him deeply. All the anger he felt before was gone, right now, he couldn’t even recall why they fought.

Thexan clung to him, kissing him as fiercely as he wanted to be kissed. They tumbled into bed together, they bodies screaming for each other. This was their way to express what they couldn’t say. Their lovemaking was never about erotic or illusion. They never used seduction or manipulation. It was what it was, the only way for them to truly be one.

Arcann had never been with anyone else. He never wanted to. The thought of sharing his body and most vulnerable moment with anyone but Thexan revolted him. Thexan was all he needed, all he had.

Tonight, they cherished the time they had, making up for all the moments that was stolen from them by the war. Thexan’s eyes were closed when he entered his brother, his lips open to let out a moan. When they were like this in bed, Thexan looked nothing like a warrior at all. He was soft, accepting and willing to take everything Arcann did with him. He could never not love it, because it was Thexan.

(Art by me)

Outside of their bedroom, Thexan’s cries could freeze his blood. But not in here. When they were one, Thexan’s every breath and every cry of pleasure made him burst with happiness. Thexan was the best lover Arcann could imagine. He could never believe that there existed something else more perfect than his beloved brother.

When they tired themselves out after long hours of lovemaking, Arcann rested in his brother’s arms, listening to the hum of the engine. He kissed Thexan’s bruised knuckles and felt very sorry for what he had said.

Thexan must have felt his mood like he always did, for he rewarded Arcann with more kisses. “Promise me,” he said, his lips moving over Arcann’s shoulder, “that you won’t do anything stupid when we see him tomorrow.”

Arcann rolled his eyes. “Why am I always the fool?”

Thexan chuckled. “Everyone knows that i’m the smart Prince and you the handsome one.”

If it had come from anyone else, Arcann might have taken it as mockery. Now, he was just glad that Thexan still found him attractive. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

They laid there like they always did, on their sides and facing each other. Before his injuries on Korriban, Arcann took the right side. But because he could no longer sleep on his cybernetic arm and his scarred face, they were forced to change. As sleep slowly reached him, he realized that Thexan was still getting used to sleep on his left arm.

In that moment, he thought he knew what Thexan meant.

  
  


It all happened so fast.

Thexan didn’t scream when Arcann’s blade parted his flesh. He didn’t even realize it at first, then strength vaporized in his limbs. Even then, Thexan didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe, that Arcann really did it. That one thing that scared him the most.

_Kinslayer._

Only in his nightmares, Thexan was the one to kill his own brother. He was the stronger one, the more balanced, the one more befitting the mantle of ruler. He always knew that one day, their father would force him to rid himself of his only weakness, the burden who was his brother and lover. He had always feared the moment when the dark side would win and his rage would destroy Arcann. He had tried to contain it, to control his anger and unleash it only when he wanted to. He had feared that he would become the kinslayer their father wanted him to be.

Even now, he was only trying to protect Arcann.

Arcann, his beloved brother who was so desperate for their father’s affection. Who was hurt in so many ways by his cold stare. Who had raised his blade against a foe he could not defeat.

He had never thought that Arcann’s rage would rebounce onto him.

 _I’m sorry!_ he wanted to scream but had no strength to do it. _I ruined everything._

Thexan had pictured his future without Arcann before. Ever since that moment on Korriban, ever since he witness the indifference of their father when he reported Arcann’s condition to him, Thexan had known. He had known that he would lose Arcann, but not like this.

In his own mind, he had suffered the loss of his brother a thousand times, in a thousand scenarios. He had wept in secret, hidden even from the person he kept no secrets from. He had carried the weight of his own remorse alone, knowing of the burden that would undoubtedly come.

Never had he known that it would be Arcann to carry this crushing weight.

He wanted to scream his brother’s name, telling him a thousand things. He only saw his own shock reflected on Arcann’s face, his golden eye now merged back into blue. He felt the pain Arcann suffered only through the force. He could still sense the hope that flashed up for but an instant.

He was suddenly so so sorry for everything he had said the night before. He wanted to apologize for calling him selfish, to atone for his outburst and the pain he inflicted. He wanted to endure a thousand times worse, if he could only spare his brother the darkness that would now follow.

He reached out to Arcann in the force, trying to tie them back together. He wanted Arcann to understand that he was always loved and never blamed. Not even now. Thexan knew that he would die. He could feel the lightness in his whole being and didn’t worry for himself. He never wanted this life, this empire. He had ever only wanted Arcann.

His brother was not made for this. He was too innocent, too unafraid to take what he desired. Recognition, pride, love, was Arcann wrong to sought these things from the man who sired them. His brother would crumble beneath of weight of his own doing, he would wither in their father’s shadow. Arcann had never had time to prepare himself for a dark future alone, he never learned to ward himself against the invincible enemy called loneliness. Arcann suffered and Thexan couldn’t bear it.

He felt his own eyelids grow heavy and sighed. He felt free. Free from the grasp of an unloving father and free from fear. He worried still for Arcann, for Vaylin and even their long exiled mother. But he was dying and there was nothing he could do.

He choose to give Arcann a last gift and reached out for his brother in the force. The feeble smile on his lips was his way to say goodbye. He let Arcann know of his love, void of any accusation and filled with all his hopes and dreams.

May his love make him strong. Thexan prayed.

Long live the dark Prince of Zakuul, Thexan wished, and Long may he reign.

He closed his eyes and went to sleep in Arcann’s arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I think this might be the first installment of a series I want to write. I've got some pretty concrete ideas floating around in my head and can't wait to see if anyone wants to read more about them. ;-)  
> Talk to me if you ship them as well. :-D  
> (And Thexan might not be dead?)


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